


we've known each other (for so long)

by keptein



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Elevator Sex, M/M, Trapped In Elevator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-17
Updated: 2015-05-17
Packaged: 2018-03-30 23:21:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3955774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keptein/pseuds/keptein
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>your heart's been aching but you're too shy to say it</i>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Being stuck in an elevator doesn't make for a very romantic first time, but you can't really plan for these things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	we've known each other (for so long)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sophieloafy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophieloafy/gifts).



> finally, i contribute to my otp tag more properly. this is for sophie, who wanted bokuroo having sex in an elevator - then i went and made it emotional. in exchange, she wrote me an amazing bokuroo song - [go listen to it here!](http://kuro0s.tumblr.com/post/117465560689/i-wrote-keptein-a-bokuro-song-because-theyre-a) i hope you enjoy this, soph. i love you a bunch. thanks a lot to chris, arsenicjay and bishop for looking over this.

 

Koutarou and Kuroo didn’t have many traditions, most of their antics being spontaneous, but Sunday night was always reserved for karaoke night. Koutarou couldn’t remember who’d first suggested it, but now he routinely sang himself hoarse once a week, competing with Kuroo to see who could pull the most ridiculous performance. Sometimes they invited other people to come out with them, but tonight it had been just the two of them in a bar full of strangers.

Now, they were on their way back to Koutarou’s for a couple of recently legal beers to round the night off.

“Stairs?” Koutarou asked hoarsely, then coughed. Screamo renditions of Celine Dion took their toll on his throat.

“Lift,” Kuroo groaned. “No way am I climbing eight flights of stairs right now.”

“Next time make sure someone’s there before you stage-dive, bro,” Koutarou said lightly. They got into the lift and he pressed the button for his floor.

“You were the one who told me to do it,” Kuroo said, stretching his arms over his head and grimacing as the lift started to move. His shirt was riding up over his stomach, showing a sliver of smooth, tan skin.

“I didn’t think you actually would!” Koutarou protested after he managed to unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth, turning back to the button panel so Kuroo wouldn’t catch him staring. “You don’t usually listen to my ideas.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the disappointed look Kuroo gave him. “Bohemian Rhapsody is my song,” he said. “I was feeling it.”

Koutarou snorted and said, “You were feeling wrong.”

“I know,” Kuroo groaned.

“Next time -” Koutarou started, and then the lift came to an abrupt stop.

“Uh,” Kuroo said. “Are we stuck?” His eyes were wide, and Koutarou waved a hand in his direction.

“This happens sometimes,” he said. “Let me call the lift people.” He leaned forward and pressed the service button.

In the background, Kuroo was complaining. “Why do you live in this hellhole?”

“It’s dirt cheap,” Koutarou told him.

“It’s dirt full stop,” Kuroo muttered, still looking around himself with a mistrustful glance. “Kou -”

 _“Hello,”_ said the service person politely, crackling over the line.

“Hey,” said Kouarou into the receptor. “Me and my friend are in the lift and it stopped moving.”

 _“Right,"_  said the service person, and there was a pause. _“We’ll have someone come and fix it within an hour.”_

“An hour?!” Kuroo exclaimed loudly, and Koutarou repeated it into the microphone.

 _“It’s a Sunday night,”_ the person said shortly. _“We deeply apologize.”_

“It’s fine,” Koutarou said genially.

“It’s not fine,” Kuroo hissed.

The line went dead, and Koutarou turned back to him. “Looks like we’ll be here awhile,” he said, spreading his arms out. “What do you want to do?”

“Nothing,” Kuroo said. “Why didn’t you ask if they could let us out?”

Koutarou blinked. “I forgot,” he said.

Kuroo fisted his hands in his hair and groaned.

“But I’m sure they would’ve offered if we could,” Koutarou said quickly. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine!” Kuroo said. His hair stood in every direction, even more so than usual, and his eyes were darting around to take in the admittedly modest elevator.

“Calm down,” Koutarou said. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Don’t - Bokuto!” Kuroo exhaled harshly. “Now we’re definitely going to fall.”

“We’re not going to _fall_ ,” Koutarou said, ignoring Kuroo’s grimace. “I’m not dying with you yowling Rick Astley stuck in my head.”

“Like you can talk,” Kuroo said, slowly losing the desperate shine in his eyes. “I can never listen to SexyBack the same way again.”

“Where’s the lie, though,” Koutarou said with a grin, and Kuroo let out a huff of laughter. Instead of replying, he put his back against the one mirror in the lift and sank down to the floor. Koutarou sat down next to him. “It was really cool when you stage-dived,” he said in apology.

“I fell,” Kuroo said.

“Those girls tried to catch you!” Koutarou said. “I would’ve, too, if I’d been closer.”

“I know,” Kuroo said softly, then he coughed and looked at the ceiling. “I don’t like lifts.”

“I can tell,” Koutarou said. He patted Kuroo’s knee. “‘S okay.”

“Thanks,” Kuroo said sarcastically, but his words lacked any real bite, and Koutarou gave him a smile.

“Did you see the guy eyeing you up when you sang Bohemian Rhapsody?” Koutarou asked. The guy had been his primary motivation for most of the hip thrusts in Kuroo’s direction when he sang Justin Timberlake, although they’d only invoked laughter.

“Yeah,” Kuroo said. He shrugged and winced briefly at the movement, body still tender from falling off the stage. “Not my type.”

“Okay,” Koutarou said.

“What?” Kuroo asked, giving him a sharp glance.

“What?”

“You sounded weird.”

“No,” Koutarou said. “I sounded normal.”

“You sounded weird,” Kuroo insisted.

“I never sound weird!”

“Alright, that’s just untrue,” Kuroo said, still looking at him thoughtfully. Koutarou squirmed under his gaze and broke eye contact, instead studying the number pad opposite them.

“Whatever, man,” he said. At least Kuroo had calmed down.

But as soon as Koutarou finished that thought, the lights went out.

“What the fuck,” said Kuroo in the sudden darkness, his voice close to breaking over the last word.

“Don’t panic!” Koutarou said quickly, blinking rapidly. The service button shone yellow in the dark, although it didn’t provide enough light to see anything else. He got up and pressed it.

 _“Hello?”_ said the service person.

“Hi, it’s me again,” Koutarou said. When he paused, he could hear Kuroo’s quick, uneven breaths behind him, still low to the ground. “The lights went out.”

 _“Nothing to worry about,”_ the service person said. _“The emergency lights should turn on soon.”_

“Okay, cool,” Koutarou said. “Do you know how long that will be?”

There was a pause. _“This is a very old system. I can’t tell you, I apologize.”_

“Don’t worry about it,” Koutarou said lightly. “And the guy who’s gonna get us out, he’s on his way?”

 _“Yes,”_ the service person said. _“Once again, on behalf of Alpha Lifts, we apologize profusely.”_

“Don’t worry -” Koutarou said again, but the abrupt click of the line disconnecting interrupted him. He sighed and turned around. Now that his eyes had adjusted more to the lack of light, he could see the faint contour of Kuroo’s figure slumped on the floor. He sat down next to him, blaming the closeness on his poor eyesight. “Kuroo?”

“Yeah,” Kuroo said faintly. His breaths still beat an irregular rhythm in the silence, although it had slowed down a little.

“Everything’s gonna be okay,” Koutarou tried.

Kuroo’s responding huff sounded distinctly disbelieving.

“I promise!” Koutarou said firmly. “And I keep my promises, dude.”

It was quiet. Koutarou kept glancing over at him, even though only darkness awaited him every time.

“Kuroo,” Koutarou said. His voice sounded loud to his own ears. “Talk to me.”

“I don’t have anything to say,” Kuroo said. It seemed as though his words were almost being swallowed by the dark.

“Just don’t freak out,” Koutarou said.

Kuroo hummed lowly.

“Kuroo,” Koutarou said, louder.

“Yeah, yeah,” Kuroo said, but his voice still caught in odd places.

Koutarou frowned. “Do you wanna hold my hand or something?” he asked jokingly.

There was silence, then Kuroo said in one giant rush of breath, “Maybe, yeah.”

“What, really?” Koutarou said before he could stop himself.

“Okay, you can fuck off -” Kuroo started, voice tight, but Koutarou hurried to continue.

“No, no, come on, give me your hand,” he said, already fumbling for Kuroo’s hand in the dark - he felt the smooth fabric of Kuroo’s shirt before his fingers closed around a sturdy wrist, and then the cold, clammy skin of Kuroo’s palm was against his own. Koutarou laced their fingers together and squeezed Kuroo’s hand tightly, valiantly ignoring the fluttery feeling in his stomach. “See, that’s better,” he exclaimed.

After a moment, he felt Kuroo squeeze back. “It could be worse,” Kuroo said.

Koutarou rubbed his thumb over Kuroo’s knuckle. He’d never held Kuroo’s hand before, and he looked down at it, pretending he could see their intertwined fingers through the dark. Kuroo’s skin was dry under his thumb, his callouses catching every so often.

“You’re calm,” Kuroo said, musing. Koutarou wished he could see his face, even just catch a glimpse of it.

“Nothing’s gonna happen,” Koutarou said, shrugging so he pulled on Kuroo’s hand a little. “Besides, you were freaking out.”

“I wasn’t -” Kuroo started, then he cut himself off. “Thanks.”

Koutarou nudged his shoulder. “Any time, bro,” he said. “And if we’re ever stuck on the edge of a cliff or something, it’s your job to keep it together.”

“You don’t like heights?” Kuroo asked.

Koutarou shook his head, then said, “Nah, man, no way.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“I hate ‘em,” Koutarou said with a shudder. “We went to Tokyo Tower once in elementary school, and I had nightmares for weeks.”

“Poor little Koutarou,” Kuroo said, amused. His voice, low and still a little hoarse, made Koutarou’s name sound almost indecent, more so for how rarely he used it. Koutarou didn’t call him by first name much either - the last time he’d said ‘Tetsurou’, he’d been drunk and almost in tears. ‘Kuroo’ was safer.

“That tower is really tall, okay,” he said belatedly, voice high-pitched in defense, and Kuroo laughed outright at that. Koutarou was still stroking circles into his skin, thumb skating over his knuckle. “Why don’t you like lifts?”

“I just don’t like them,” Kuroo replied. “Too many horror movies as a kid, maybe. Lifts are always haunted, or they fall down, or something gruesome happens. You can’t trust them.”

“Childhood trauma,” Koutarou said solemnly, “I get it,” and Kuroo bumped his shoulder, laughing a little.

“So,” Kuroo said, quieter after a moment’s pause, “what do people do when they’re stuck in an elevator, anyway?”

“Play I Spy,” Koutarou said, and almost fell over when Kuroo shoved at him. He laughed, and said almost without thinking, “I dunno, make out?”

“You wish,” Kuroo replied without missing a beat. Koutarou could feel his body shift as he changed position against the wall, and he wanted to blame his sudden silence on the dark, on the fact that gathering his thoughts was hard when Kuroo was so close he could smell him, maybe even on the fact that once the words had left his mouth, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it.

But he’d been quiet for too long now, and it was too late to salvage it.

“Bokuto,” Kuroo said, but Koutarou’s blood was pounding in his ears, drowning out the nuances in Kuroo’s tone, and he still couldn’t see his face.

“Well,” Koutarou said somewhat shakily, then coughed. His eyes were fixed in front of him, blinding himself on the small glowing service button straight ahead. “You wanted a distraction, right?”

He could almost pretend this wasn’t real, that the hand clasping his own was just a warmer spot of darkness and nothing else - at least until that hand tugged at him, hard enough for him to lose his balance. He fell against Kuroo, a sharp knee digging into his ribs until he adjusted.

“Dude -” he said, but then Kuroo’s other hand was on his jaw and he was being kissed firmly, chapped lips on the corner of his mouth. He exhaled in surprise and Kuroo pulled away, just enough to kiss him again, lips flush against Koutarou this time. Koutarou’s hand fisted in his shirt, pressing back against Kuroo.

They parted again and Koutarou’s breath stuttered out of his open mouth. His eyes were still open, unseeing in the dark, searching for Kuroo’s face - his head was swimming, but he didn’t want to think now, so he reached up and kissed Kuroo again, clenching his eyes shut. With Kuroo’s hand still warm on his face, Koutarou pressed closer, the sound of their breathing loud in the silence of the lift. Their lips met again and again, a series of quick pecks that suddenly deepened when Koutarou swiped his tongue over the seam of Kuroo’s lips and Kuroo’s mouth opened for him, reciprocating with growing confidence.

Kuroo’s tongue was warm and wet against his - he was a good kisser, and Koutarou knew he wasn’t that bad either, even if he currently felt like a bumbling idiot under his best friend’s hands.

His own were still immobile, still frozen by indecision - Koutarou wrenched his eyes open to make sure it was still dark, an excuse for the way his hands moved to clutch at Kuroo’s arms. He sighed, and Kuroo bit his lip hard, grinning against his mouth. Koutarou whimpered in surprise and surged forward to better capture Kuroo’s mouth with his. Over the blood thundering in his ears, he could hear their laboured breathing, the slick sound of their lips moving against each other, and the faint groan Kuroo let out when Koutarou accidentally dug his fingers into his shoulder.

He was still awkwardly crouched in Kuroo’s lap, and when he sat up, Kuroo followed him. The warm, large hand on his neck tugged him back into a deep kiss as soon as he found his balance, and he finally let his eyes slide back shut. The darkness blanketed them, and he could feel Kuroo’s enthusiasm under his hands, igniting Koutarou and spreading through him like a forest fire, making him rise to the challenge. He pulled Kuroo’s shirt out of his pants quickly - his head was full of everything he wanted to do, in these brief moments that seemed to be free of consequence, and his movements were frantic, blunt fingers scrabbling to get Kuroo’s shirt off.

Kuroo wasted no time complying. He broke away, uttering small huffs of frustration while he unbuttoned his shirt. Koutarou could hear it, and he could almost feel it in the air once Kuroo was shirtless, his hands already reaching out to run over the smooth, hard planes of his chest.

He wanted to say something, even just Kuroo’s name, but it didn’t feel like breaking the silence was allowed. He bit down on his lip before deciding to put his mouth to better use, searching out Kuroo’s mouth again and nipping hard at his bottom lip in belated retaliation before he kissed his way down Kuroo’s neck. He sucked and licked at the skin, tasting a faint tang of sweat, and when he bit down just below Kuroo’s jaw, Kuroo inhaled quickly, pressing Koutarou closer to him. Koutarou smiled against the wet skin. He was just about to break his own rule of not speaking to make a comment about how easy Kuroo was to wind up -

When everything was suddenly very bright.

Koutarou blinked repeatedly to make his eyes start working again, automatically pulling away from Kuroo a little in shock, and then fully once he realized what had happened.

Kuroo looked debauched - he was still leaning against the wall, breathing heavily. His shirt was tangled around his shoulders, exposing the smooth skin of his shoulders and the top of his chest. Along his neck was a line of dark hickeys, the skin still shining from Koutarou’s licks. His lips were red and puffy, looking bruised in the elevator’s harsh light.

Koutarou scooted away. Any comment he’d wanted to make had died on his lips, because while Kuroo might be easy, Koutarou wanted him so bad it _ached_  - not just in his groin, although his jeans were still uncomfortably tight, but in his heart too, his head filled with sappy, fragile dreams. His eyes kept getting caught on the bruises across Kuroo’s neck, the almost wanton line his throat made, face still turned towards the ceiling.

But when Kuroo finally moved his head down and met Koutarou’s eyes, his were wide with panic.

“Shit,” Koutarou said faintly.

Kuroo gave a short nod. He hadn’t looked away, his dark eyes heavy on Koutarou’s face. Koutarou didn’t want to break his gaze, the tension so thick it was almost choking. He couldn’t even move his gaze to look at Kuroo’s lips again, even though he desperately wanted to. Koutarou shifted to make sure his crotch was hidden from view - the motion made Kuroo’s eyes flick down, and then the tension snapped like a rubber band.

Koutarou exhaled and sat back against the steel wall next to Kuroo, looking away from him.

“When will we be out of here?” Kuroo muttered finally, his low, rough voice breaking the silence and making Koutarou shiver.

“Don’t know,” he said in reply. Now, when they were back to sitting shoulder to shoulder, he could only see Kuroo through  his peripheral vision - stolen, quick glances told him Kuroo was just staring straight ahead, frowning and worrying at his lower lip.

Koutarou tried to stop staring in time, but when Kuroo turned his head, Koutarou’s eyes were still fixed on it, the whiteness of his teeth against the red of his lip. He looked up to meet Kuroo’s eyes again, a guilty expression already painted across his features.

Kuroo’s frown deepened the longer they looked at each other, and all Koutarou could think of was kissing him again. There was only one thing to do. “Listen,” he started, clearing his throat. “If we’re stuck here anyway…”

Kuroo twitched a little, his brows raising, and Koutarou hurried to backtrack.

“It doesn’t have to -”

“What, mean anything?” Kuroo interrupted sharply. “Fuck off.” He turned away to face the wall, drawing his legs up. “It means something.”

The harshness of his tone shocked Koutarou into silence, staring at the line of Kuroo’s back. He closed his eyes for a second, trying to pretend the lights had gone again, but it didn’t work. When he opened them, Kuroo was still turned away, the line of his shoulders rigid and cold. His hand was lying on the floor, palm turned towards the ceiling like a beacon.

Koutarou licked his lips and took a deep breath, hand reaching out to grasp Kuroo’s. It was a lot easier to find in the light. “Alright,” he said finally, although that sounded small and inadequate in the wake of Kuroo’s confession.

Kuroo still hadn’t turned around. Koutarou wet his lips again and spoke, raising his voice a little.

“For me too.”

Kuroo’s hand tensed in his, and Koutarou gripped it back. Finally, Kuroo reared his head and uncurled to look at him, vulnerability written clear across his face.

“I mean,” Koutarou said, smiling helplessly, “where else am I going to find someone who’ll sing me Never Gonna Give You Up and mean it?”

Kuroo’s eyes widened, a flush rising high on his cheekbones - but he was smiling too, a crooked thing that made one corner of his mouth twitch before it spread over the rest of his face like a dawning sun.

Koutarou had it bad, he realised, Kuroo’s hand warm in his. He had it really bad.

Kuroo’s eyes were flitting over his face, straying down to his lips. Koutarou swallowed and leaned over slowly, tilting his head and urging Kuroo’s chin up a little with one hand so he could kiss him. Their lips met hesitantly, eyes still wide open and fixed on each other  - Koutarou’s lips slid against Kuroo’s more familiarly now, but this still felt different, like something completely new.

Kuroo put his hand on Koutarou’s jaw, fingers running over the soft skin under his ear and tilting Koutarou’s head to deepen the kiss. It felt like his heart was ready to burst out of his chest, Kuroo’s hand on his face so warm and confident, his lidded eyes hot as they held Koutarou’s gaze, pupils blown.

Koutarou gripped Kuroo’s hand tighter and let his eyes slide shut, shuffling closer to him. Everywhere they touched felt like an electric field, stinging Koutarou and making him want to press closer for more. Kuroo’s lips were soft against his, and that was good - _great_ , even - but Koutarou was still hard in his jeans, and he felt the memory of Kuroo’s blunt fingernails digging into his neck like a phantom pain, just this side of exciting.

He licked his way into Kuroo’s mouth, teeth rough against his lips - Kuroo moaned in surprise and pressed back, not even giving Koutarou an inch as he fought for control of the kiss. It didn’t matter, because Koutarou had made his point. Kuroo’s hand turned firm, tugging him so he was between Kuroo’s legs. Being in front of him put less of a strain on his neck, and he fell back into it with a sigh, sucking Kuroo’s bottom lip into his mouth and lavishing it before he released it, mouths meeting fast and eager.

He was still holding Kuroo’s hand, and he released it to trace up his arm and down his side, greedy fingers sneaking up under his shirt to feel his skin and the taut muscles of his stomach, tracing them while Kuroo laughed a little into his mouth.

“You ticklish?” Koutarou mumbled between kisses, the strokes of his hands growing firmer and stronger, broad palms sliding against Kuroo’s waist.

“Nah,” Kuroo replied, so Koutarou ran a single fingers across the length of his stomach and he laughed again, almost a giggle.

“Liar,” Koutarou said, grinning, and Kuroo fisted a hand in his hair to tug him close again, shutting him up.

He wanted to touch Kuroo all over, feeling a bolt of heat shoot straight down to his core just at the thought, at the fact that he was _this damn close_  - he could feel Kuroo’s growing desperation too, in his clenching hands and the insistence of his kisses, hard and biting against Koutarou’s mouth.

Koutarou broke away to pant, eyes meeting Kuroo’s, pupils so blown the rim of dark amber was almost gone, cheeks red. “Do you wanna -”

“Yeah, fuck, come on,” Kuroo said, before he was even finished - Koutarou laughed, because Kuroo’s abandon was infectious, making him feel wild and let loose.

“Okay, let me -” He stood up and gestured for Kuroo to scoot away from the wall so he could fit there, resting against the steel Kuroo’s body heat had already warmed up. Against his chest, between his thighs was Kuroo, firm back and shoulders on display. Koutarou pressed a kiss to the top of his spine and Kuroo leaned against him more firmly, closing whatever distance there was between them. Koutarou put his hands back on him, tugging his shirt away completely so it was just hanging off his arms, the line of his abs and the trail of hair running from his navel down to the waistline of his boxers peeking over his jeans like a challenge.

Kuroo’s hands gripped at his thighs, shifting against him, and the friction against his own crotch made Koutarou whine and hide his face against Kuroo’s neck, muttering curses. “Come on,” Kuroo said, a little shaky, and Koutarou obeyed, tracing Kuroo’s hipbones and hesitating again just before unbuttoning Kuroo’s jeans.

“Are you sure?” he asked again, and Kuroo twitched.

“Yeah, y-yeah,” he said, stuttering when Koutarou palmed him through the fabric, finally dragging the zipper down and pulling his cock out, already hot and hard in Koutarou’s hand. Kuroo’s head fell heavily back against Koutarou’s shoulder, breathing out sharply.

Koutarou exhaled against his hair. At least the angle was familiar, and he could almost pretend he was jerking himself off without the sensations. But when he rubbed at the head of Kuroo’s cock, Kuroo didn’t shiver like Koutarou would, and the almost absent thumb Koutarou ran under his foreskin made him jump instead.

“Holy shit,” Koutarou whispered, spreading the precome over Kuroo’s cock to make jerking him off easier, eyes rooted to the sight. Kuroo laughed shakily, rubbing his hands against Koutarou’s thighs. “This is really fucking hot.”

“I know,” Kuroo said, “you can - fuck - you can speed up, if you want to.”

“Alright,” Koutarou said and moved his hand faster, Kuroo’s pleased, heavy sigh immediate and arousing. “This is really - fuck, Kuroo, I want to do so many things - you’re so hot, you know that -” Trying to stop the outpouring of embarrassing encouragement, Koutarou fastened his mouth to the side of Kuroo’s neck, pressing biting kisses along the column of his throat. Kuroo’s hand came up to fist in his hair and keep him there, biting back a curse.

He smelled like soap and sweat and sex, the mix heady against Koutarou’s tongue - he licked his way up to kiss and nip at Kuroo’s ear, ending up with his nose buried in Kuroo’s hair so he could see his hand still moving on Kuroo’s cock, the other stroking his inner thigh through his jeans. Kuroo’s back was so warm, and his ass was firm against Koutarou’s crotch - he rocked against it mindlessly, too busy trying to take in the picture Kuroo made when he leaned back. His throat was bared, a vulnerable line where his head rested heavy on Koutarou’s shoulder, and his skin was dark with arousal, a faint sheen of sweat covering his stomach. His hands were fisting uselessly against Koutarou’s thighs, hips twitching forward so he was fucking Koutarou’s hand a little, quiet moans on every exhale.

“Sure hope there aren’t any security cameras in this lift,” Koutarou said suddenly, an afterthought at most, but Kuroo jerked and cursed in his lap, head rolling against Koutarou’s shoulder.

“There’d better fucking not be,” he said finally, voice low and breathy.

“Could be hot, though,” Koutarou mused, still shifting against Kuroo’s ass and his grip tightening around his cock, making Kuroo moan.

“Don’t - _nngh_  - project your kinks onto me,” Kuroo said between breaths, and Koutarou laughed. “Fuck, Bokuto, come on -”

“Yeah,” Koutarou said, biting his lip and sneaking his other hand down to push Kuroo’s underwear down and cup his balls, tugging lightly - Kuroo shuddered against him, coming with a low, drawn-out groan and a slow release of tension, disappearing off him in waves.

“Fuck,” he sighed quietly, boneless and satisfied as he slumped against Koutarou.

“Dude,” Koutarou said, wiping his hand on Kuroo’s underwear. “Can you, uh -”

“Give me a minute,” Kuroo said, closing his eyes - he looked like he was planning on going to sleep right there, and Koutarou poked him, whining.

“Come on, I’m still really hard, Kuroo -”

“Mmmhm,” Kuroo said, eyes still closed, suppressing a smile.

“You _asshole_  -”

There was a beep, and then suddenly the elevator was moving. Kuroo scrambled to his feet in a flash, looking haunted with his hair a mess, throat bruised beyond compare, shirt around his elbows, jeans still pushed down - he pulled them up quickly and tried to button his shirt while Koutarou sat on the floor, laughing at the sight. Koutarou tried to stand up himself, stumbling a little bowlegged.  Kuroo raised his eyebrows at him, and Koutarou stuck his tongue out in his direction.

“As soon as we get in,” he said. “You owe me.”

“Alright,” Kuroo said, amused. The elevator only went to the lower of the two floors they’d been stuck behind - Koutarou grimaced as soon as he realised he’d have to walk up stairs, but they couldn’t exactly stay here, and Kuroo held his hand as they walked up to Koutarou’s apartment, so it wasn’t all bad.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Kuroo let out a sigh, his shoulders relaxing, and he let go of Koutarou’s hand. “I was so worried we’d meet someone,” he said. “Scar one of your neighbours.”

“They’d survive,” Koutarou said, putting his hands on Kuroo’s waist and pulling him closer. “Envy the fuck out of me, probably, but they’d survive.”

Kuroo let out a quiet laugh, gaze caught on Koutarou’s lips before he looked up to meet his eyes. He leaned closer to kiss him, but just before their lips touched, Koutarou started humming. Kuroo stopped and frowned, leaning away in shock once he realised what song it was. “Are you _rickrolling me_  right now?”

“It’s a callback!” Koutarou said, and bent over laughing at Kuroo’s face.

“I’ve made a mistake,” Kuroo said, trying to maneuver out of Koutarou’s hands, but he held him fast, still laughing a little.

“Come on,” Koutarou said, “a full commitment’s what I’m -”

“Shut up,” Kuroo said, trying not to smile, and kissed him - Koutarou closed his eyes and let them sway for a second before he broke away again.

“I’m just saying, you wouldn’t get this from any other guy -”

“Koutarou,” Kuroo said, exasperated, “do you want me to blow you or not?”

“Shit,” Koutarou said after a slight pause. “Yeah.”

“Then be quiet and let me kiss you,” Kuroo said, and Koutarou obeyed, wrapping his arms around Kuroo’s waist. His heart felt full and heavy in his chest, but the rest of him felt light, like he could float with excitement. He closed his eyes and listened to Kuroo’s breathing when they broke away, soft and steady in the quiet of his apartment. Contentment wrapped around them like a blanket, and Koutarou shuffled closer, Kuroo’s arms coming up around his shoulders to keep him there.

“Never gonna give -”

“I will leave. Right now.”

“Okay, okay. Kiss me again.”

**Author's Note:**

> i'm on [tumblr](http://tivruskis.tumblr.com) and [twitter](http://twitter.com/tivruskis) as tivruskis - come talk to me about bokuroo! the amazing eicinic has done some drawings based on this fic, and they are incredible: find them [here](http://eicinic.tumblr.com/post/119874484445/a-bunch-of-sketches-from-twitter-and-livestream-i) and one [here](http://eicinic.tumblr.com/post/120396932480/waves-hand-from-bokukuroo-hell-sup-folks-i).


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